Letters -- Published Nov. 22, 2012

Thursday

Nov 22, 2012 at 12:01 AM

Those in their 20s and 30s pretty much remember where they were the morning of Sept. 11, 2001. And then there are those of us who remember even further back, almost a half a century ago today ... Nov. 22, 1963.

Those in their 20s and 30s pretty much remember where they were the morning of Sept. 11, 2001. And then there are those of us who remember even further back, almost a half a century ago today ... Nov. 22, 1963.

It was 7:25 p.m. (1:25 p.m. in Dallas) as a young airman with Armed Forces Radio at Iraklion Air Station, Crete, Greece, that Friday night that I had the radio shift right after Adrian Cronaeur, who would go on to write a book that became the movie "Good Morning Vietnam."

All was quiet; our thoughts were on our families back in the states as the Thanksgiving holiday approached. Bob Hope was bringing his road show to us for Christmas.

In those days, the paper fed the UPI teletype machine down the hall from the studio. It had three attention-getting ring levels: Urgent, Bulletin and Flash. I had never heard the last two. That was about to change.

When the bell went off and didn't stop ringing, I wasn't too concerned about and took my time going down the hall to see what all the fuss was about. The first headline read " ... shots fired at President's motorcade in Dallas." Another flash: "Vice President Johnson suffers heart attack" (this turned out not to be true).

We had anagreement with the Greek government not to air anything that would jeopardize the relationship between the two countries. We sat on the story until we got the OK from headquarters in Wiesbaden, Germany, 72 hours later.

Greek radio stations announced the news in Greek and English as it developed. We heard of Lee Harvey Oswald's arrest on Greek radio stations first.

The impact of Kennedy's death on our generation has dimmed a bit over the past 49 years, as have those yellowed UPI news alerts I had saved but the majority of those born in the 1930s and 1940's still remember where we were and what we were doing that fateful day in Dallas.

Mike Hamiel

Manteca

We would like to express our sincere appreciation for the service the Fire Department provided our family and our ranch Oct. 12.

Engines from stations 2, 3, 5, 9, 12 and 13 arrived on the scene quickly and efficiently began the process of connecting hoses to pump water from the nearest fire hydrant to the fire that was fast engulfing our walnut processing plant at 6040 E. Main St., Stockton. Their hard work and quick reaction got the fire under control.

The support these dedicated firefighters provided throughout the night and into the next afternoon helped us to physically and emotionally survive the ordeal. While these men were fighting the fire that reached more than 1,900 degrees, many other people behind the scenes sprang into action. The dispatchers who called in those that were enjoying a day off and kept the firefighters en route, those who put out traffic signs, those who oversaw the detoured traffic routes, the fire investigator who answered endless questions, and PG&E and AT&T workers who restored service all worked as one unified team.

Please know that we will never forget that night - its sirens, confusion, smoke, heat and sadness. But, more importantly, we will never forget the overwhelming support we received from so many people.

Steve & Cathy Lagomarsino

Jennifer Lagomarsino

Stockton

Kudos to staff writer Roger Phillips and The Record for an outstanding feature Nov. 18 on Franklin High senior Angelica Serrano Leyva.

This is the type of in-depth neighborhood journalism that will keep newspapers alive and interesting for many years to come. You need more of these features to balance all the city's depressing negative news about crime and bankruptcy.

There are a lot of good people in Stockton. Unfortunately, most of them never get their story told in a local newspaper. Accenting the positive like this straight-A student and teenage mother who aims to be a doctor is very refreshing for this old-fashioned newspaper junkie.